


Legacy: Truths and Consequences

by tersa (alix)



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, DLC:Legacy, Grey Wardens, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Porn, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alix/pseuds/tersa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Legacy, Garrett  deals with the unpleasant revelations and confronts Anders with the secrets that he’s kept about the Grey Wardens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy: Truths and Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal in August 2011, based on one of my Legacy playthroughs.

_At the end, Varric told Cassandra he was taking liberties to relate what happened after their return from Corypheus’s prison._

_He could only take liberties with what Hawke chose to share with him..._

 

**Act III**

“So, you and Anders, huh?” Carver asked as he was shown out.

Garrett shot a look at his brother. The experience with the Carta, Corypheus, and finding out more about their father had done what neither their parents nor Bethany had ever managed in their lives: to birth a fragile accord between them. But years of dealing with Carver’s resentment still made him wary at the question. “Yes, me and Anders. Why?”

Carver shrugged. “Nothing, just found it interesting, that’s all. You never seemed interested in anyone before, even when they were throwing themselves at you, like Peaches.” _There_ was the note of bitterness Garrett was used to, but it disappeared when Carver continued. “I suppose it makes sense it’d be another mage. And what about Justice?”

A corner of Garrett’s mouth twitched to a frown. Did he want to admit to Carver that Anders’s belief in the cause, driven by the spirit--virtue or demon, Garrett no longer knew--had reached an obsessive level? “Anders found some research he says will get rid of Justice. We were out collecting materials for the potion when the Carta attacked.”

“Huh,” Carver intoned contemplatively. “Good luck with that.” He went on, changing topics with, “I guess it’s fitting after what we found out the last few days that father’s line will end. Sad, though, too.”

Garrett’s hand froze on the handle of the door. “What?”

Chagrin flittered through Carver’s expression.. “Ah, right. Well, I guess you already know one of the big secrets, a little one won’t hurt. I’m probably never going to have children. Another side effect of becoming a Warden. And it would be kind of difficult with you and Anders,” he said with a small laugh. “Father’s blood ends with us.”

The comment bothered Garrett more than he’d expected. He’d never really thought that much about having children, always this vague expectation from his parents that translated to a nebulous ‘maybe some day’, and at the moment, he was content to be the Champion and happy with Anders. But he’d always thought Carver would have them some day, maybe not consciously, but in the back of his head, and to have that notion disabused upset him. “I’m sorry,” he got out in a daze.

“Don’t be, you still have a chance, at least. I need to get going.”

“Oh, right,” Garrett said, recovering his wits and opening the door. Before Carver could leave, he reached out and grasped Carver’s forearm, earning a look of surprise for the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Carver.”

Carver frowned as he considered his response, a small smile breaking through to precede his, “And you, brother.” Then he was gone.

Garrett shut the door and returned to the main hall and the fireplace. This had been one of Mother’s favorite places and thinking of her turned his thoughts to what she might have said to him about all this, if she’d been there.

Anders’s bright, “It’s going to take me a _week_ to rid myself of the stench of the Deep Roads,” interrupted his reverie. Swiveling his head towards the voice, Garrett spied Anders padding out with a towel knotted around his hips and using a smaller one to scrub at his hair that hung loose and damp to his chin. “I’ve mentioned how much I hate them, right?”

The sight brought a stirring in his groin, turning the look into an appreciative study that Anders smiled back to. “Once or twice,” Garrett replied, but then his bemusement fell away to a return of troubling thoughts.

Noticing the change in mood, Anders closed the distance and pressed his chest into Garrett’s side, their arms going around each other’s waists. “What is it, love?”

He considered his words before answering. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Calling before?”

Anders’s expression shuttered, and he tried to draw back, only for Garrett to grab at the knot at Anders’s hip as he began to slide away, staying the motion. “I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?” Garrett asked, anger sparking to an ember.

“Couldn’t,” Anders repeated in a flat tone. “I told you back when Carver came down with the Blight sickness there were things, terrible things about being a Grey Warden.”

“You could have told me, before I decided to give my brother over to it.”

Anders narrowed his eyes. “I tried to talk you out of doing it, if you recall, but I swore once never to reveal the secrets of the order, so I couldn’t say _why_.”

“You swore once...” Garrett said, incredulously. “You ran away from them, but couldn’t run away from that?”

Anders’s voice turned brittle. “There are some things you can’t forswear and still live with yourself.”

The fire crackled as they looked at each other, Garrett trying to decide how to react. The fact that Anders had withheld information of that magnitude from him rankled, but he could see his point. “So, both you and Carver are going to go on this Calling some day?”

Anders turned his head away, looking into the fire. “Yes.”

“When?”

“Hopefully not for a very long time,” he said, sounding distant. “Decades.” He shuddered, and Garrett used his grip to pull Anders back into him. He was hot to the touch and his breathing rapid, his chest rising and falling against Garrett’s side. Anders didn’t seem to notice. “That darkspawn, in my head...”

Blue light began crackling across Anders’s skin, and Garrett’s voice sharpened, wrapping his other hand around Anders’s waist. “Anders, calm down. He’s gone now, you’re safe.” His heart beat faster, waiting to see if he would get through to him or if this time was the one where Justice kept control.

He let out his breath when the glowing winked out, shame coming into Anders’s face as he staggered into him. “I’m sorry, love,” he said with eyes closed. “It’s not an experience I want to repeat.”

“Neither do I,” Garrett said with a hint of lightness that faded to warmth. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Anders averted his face and rested fingertips across Garrett’s forearm. “I thought you had, too,” he admitted.

A tingle began to creep up Garrett’s arm at the touch, arousal buzzing through his veins, but he didn’t give into it. “Do you...want to talk about it?”

A shudder passed through Anders’s frame, and Garrett tightened his arms, holding Anders until he was ready to speak again. “Not really,” he said, distaste in his voice. His hands slid up Garrett’s forearms, past the elbows, then continued higher, Head still ducked, he glanced upwards at Garrett, the expression and tone heated, “I’d rather replace it with more pleasant experiences.”

They blended together seamlessly, one moment gazing at each other, the next they were leaning in to join in a kiss at first fiery and sweet but deepening swiftly as electric jolts coursed through Garrett’s body. His fingers slid into the damp strands of Anders’s loose hair, holding him close as lust enveloped them in a whirlwind, bodies crushed together. He pressed, and Anders didn’t yield, instead pressing back eagerly, both vying for control, for more, taking and taking until Garrett ached with need. He tugged on the knot of the towel and it fell apart, sagging between their hips and baring Anders’s arse, so that Garrett’s hand could drop to squeeze the muscular curvature, rewarded by an answering groan.

It was Anders who broke the tryst, drawing back and inhaling in a deep, rattling breath, his eyes lambent with desire. His voice was husky when he suggested, “Let’s go to bed.”

Garrett gave him a kiss, and said, “Yes,” for what else was there to say?

They made their way up the stairs to the bedroom, but before Anders could undress him, Garrett pushed him back to the bed and straddled him, pinning him with mouth and body as he began kissing him again, deeply, hungrily, tongue lapping insistently until he pulled back and blazed a swift path across Anders’s chin, then his throat in eager, wet touches and nips on a purposeful descent down his chest to reach the hard cock jutting up in readiness. There was no pause, no coyness when Garrett took it into his mouth, sliding down the shaft in a rush that caused Anders to moan at the suddenness, his hands to tangle in Garrett’s hair to urge him on. Garrett drew back though, sucking as he pulled off to the head, which he tongued, then down once more, taking in even more while Anders’s hips lifted from the mattress, pushing even deeper. With trembling fingers, Garrett slid into the cleft of Anders’s ass to find the hole, tracing a circle around the rim before inserting into it, beginning to work the tight ring loose as Anders began bucking, his panting gasps filling the room. Garrett rode the thrusts, clinging to control solely for the euphoria that came from pushing Anders over the brink, the sound of Anders’s moans ringing in his ears, the quivering of his muscles in that moment before he peaked, the bark and the deep push as liquid heat exploded into Garrett’s mouth, which he drank down, giving one last sucking pull on Anders’s cock as Anders spent himself and relaxed back into the mattress.

Crawling to bring himself even with Anders, Garrett fit himself against Anders’s side, propped up on an elbow, and threw a leg across Anders’s thighs, while Anders shivered, recovering. A shift in position, and Anders’s satiated expression tinged with surprise. “You’re still hard.”

Garrett put a hand to Anders’s cheek, thumb pressed against his lips to quiet him. “It’s alright,” he said in an undertone made husky by lust held in check. “I wanted this for you.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Anders whispered, eyes moving as his gaze roved over Garrett’s features.

“Funny,” Garrett said with a smile, “I was thinking the same about you.”

A flutter of guilt crossed Anders’s expression, so quickly Garrett wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it.

For a while, they remained like that in silence, simply looking at one another, Anders’s breathing slowly returning to normal and Garrett’s erection fading until with a flicker of his eyes from meeting Garrett’s gaze downwards, towards his mouth, Anders leaned in to kiss him once more, and it stirred to life. Desire came roaring back, and Garrett’s hand slipped down to curl around the back of Anders’s neck, pulling him close while his hips rocked forward, rubbing himself against Anders’s belly. A catch of breath, and Anders put a hand to Garrett’s chest then slid it downwards, dragging across the fabric of his shirt and slipping beneath the edge of the soft pants Garrett still wore to close over Garrett’s cock, dragging upwards with slow purpose that caused explosions to burst outwards from the touch. But when Garrett went to follow suit, Anders broke away from the kiss to breathe, “Don’t.”

“Why--“

“Don’t,” Anders repeated, cutting him off, and added a stroke of his hand to the word, catching Garrett on a wave of arousal that had him questing towards the retreating hand and words forgotten. Garrett withdrew his hand and put it to Anders’s waist instead. “This is for you.”

Anders pulled away, to Garrett’s disappointment and confusion, but it cleared when he retrieved the jar from the table next to the bed. “Get undressed,” Anders ordered gently. Garrett complied, sitting up to strip off his shirt and rising to his feet to remove his pants, trembling as he lay back down again. Anders rolled him to his side and smeared the salve down the length of Garrett’s shaft, slip-siding his fist from base to tip until Garrett was moving into it eagerly, breaths coming guttural and harsh as the pressure built. The hand withdrew, and Garrett let out a noise of complaint at the cessation, to which Anders chuckled warmly, a rich sound that enflamed him more. As did the sight of Anders dipping up more of the salve to slick the skin between his thighs and his own burgeoning hardness. Anticipation made Garrett begin to leak, even before Anders scooted near, guiding Garrett’s cock to between his legs and squeezed them closed.

Sensation exploded up the length, the feel of being enclosed, tiny hairs the slightest of frictions against the smooth oiliness, muscles sliding beneath the slippery skin, caressing him. With a strangled sigh, Garrett shoved, pushing himself flush against Anders’s pelvis, the warm knot of renewed arousal against his abs sending a flood of exhilaration through his veins that turned to fire when the tip of his cock touched the cleft of Anders’s ass. Not in it, but the feel of it, the knowledge that it was there, that if he just pushed hard enough he might, Garrett drew back and drove in again, straining to go deeper, harder, aching for it.

Anders shifted and took Garrett’s ear lobe in his mouth, sucking on it while murmuring, “Come to me, love, come for me,” pushing Garrett beyond restraint. He was pumping, ecstasy cascading through him, throaty grunts tearing from his lips until with a barking cry, his back arched and he climaxed.

In the wake of physical catharsis came an emotional one. Still quivering in the aftermath of his orgasm, tears ran down Garrett’s cheeks, and Anders, dismayed, wrapped his arms around Garrett, soothing with, “It’s okay, love. It’s okay,” until the surge passed and left Garrett wiping his face with his hand and scrubbing to clear his eyes.

Garrett didn’t say anything after his tears stopped, embarrassed by the outburst, disentangling himself from Anders’s arms to get out of the bed in search of rags. When he returned, he was unable to meet Anders’s worried gaze, focusing instead on the task of cleaning Anders up, the intimacy of the practical gesture and Anders’s simple acceptance of it helping him regain his composure. Completed, he laid the rags aside and sat on the edge of the bed, to feel Anders hand splay across the small of his back.

“What is it?” Anders asked softly.

Garrett’s mind chased words around in circles, searching for a reply, none of them sounding good. He decided on, “I miss my parents.”

It sounded lame even to his own ears, and he stared down at his hands laced loosely across his thighs. “I know you do. I envy you that.”

There was such wistfulness in Anders’s voice, it brought Garrett partially out of his self-absorbed misery and his head around to meet Anders’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, love,” Anders said, smiling crookedly and stroking Garrett’s back. “Mine is an old hurt. This thing with the Grey Wardens is still new for you.”

“I just can’t--“ He cut himself off, grief threatening to close him up once more until he regained control. “I can’t believe my father did blood magic. After everything he taught Bethany and I about how bad it is. It...hurts,” he rasped, looking back to watch his fingers twist until they hurt as well.

Anders said nothing, continuing to comfort Garrett by the slow motions down his back, until the silence stretched. He finally broke it with, “Your father loved your mother very much. Desperate people do desperate things when they feel threatened.”

“Would you?” Garrett asked, slewing his gaze back to Anders’s face once more.

The smile Anders gave him was tinged with bleakness. “I already did.”

A chill swept through Garrett, compelling him to drop his eyes to his lap, and Anders’s motions stilled, his hand withdrawing. Anxious to change the subject, Garrett seized on the first thing he thought of, which gnawed inside his head. “Carver mentioned there was more, earlier.”

“What did he say?” Anders asked.

Garrett heard wariness creep into his tone and frowned faintly. “That you can’t have children.”

The tension eased out of him. “Ah, yes. That.” He was quiet for a moment or two, before he said with forced levity, “Not really an issue for me at the moment, I’m afraid.”

“But, Carver.”

Anders’s voice turned rueful. “Missing out on being an uncle? I guess you’ll just have to wait until Aveline makes all of Isabela’s nightmares come true.”

Garrett shook his head. “The Grey Wardens kidnapped my mother when she was pregnant and held her hostage for my father’s cooperation. What kind of Order would do that sort of thing? Use demons and blood magic and think it was right? And I _gave_ Carver to them.”

Anders shoved himself up to a seat, and Garrett glanced back to find Anders struggling with his temper. “You did it to save his life, remember? And look at him now. He’s found a place, something he’s good at. You heard what he said, it’s a calling, but one he’s suited for. They’ve got good and bad sorts, just like mages, but most of the ones I knew were good people.”

The anger stung his conscience, remembering Anders’s role in the decision. It moderated Garrett’s tone when he asked, “Then why did you leave them?”

Anders’s ire melted, and he averted his face. “Because I had a different calling, you know that.”

Garrett drew in a deep, shaky breath and reached for Anders’s wrist. “I’m sorry, I’m not angry at you. I just...” His fingertips pressed, and he felt the slender cords against the bones. “I’m angry at them. At the situation. The fact I didn’t know all this when I fell in love with you. What they are, what they do, that I might lose you, lose both of you, that you might turn into something like Larius--“

“Hush,” Anders said, bringing his captured hand up to put his fingers over Garrett’s mouth to cut him off, then dropped his hand to rest on Garrett’s chest. “I told you that won’t be for a while. Or maybe never. Something could just as easily happen to me on any one of your grand adventures around here. Or to you. All we can do is live the time the Maker gives us, and love each other. Is that so bad?”

His heart raced under Anders’s palm. He loosened his grip to reach up to brush the hair at Anders’s temple, the faintest sheen of frost amidst the wheaten gold a reminder of time’s inexorable passage. “No,” he said with uncertainty, then firmed his resolved. “No, it’s not so bad.”

Anders smiled, melancholy touching his eyes. “So, tomorrow, can we go back out to get the drakestone?


End file.
